


Dangerous Boys

by romanticallyinept



Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Apologies, Choking, Corporal Punishment, Dacryphilia, Developing Relationship, Domdrop, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fist Fights, Hurt/Comfort, It's one of my fics, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Past Abuse, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Punishment, Relationship Negotiation, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Slow Burn, Subdrop, Submission, Subspace, The Outer Worlds Quest: The Empty Man, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, named captain, still upset that's not a canonical tag, you know a pretty boy is gonna cry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22854316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticallyinept/pseuds/romanticallyinept
Summary: It’s enough, Felix tells himself, and pulls the belt a little tighter.Felix doesn't handle his needs as a submissive very well. Max has feelings about being a switch, and none of them are positive. And the captain? Well, Rhett hasn't been anyone's dominant in years, but he can't ignore thewanthe feels, either.
Relationships: Maximillian DeSoto/Felix Millstone, The Captain/Felix Millstone, The Captain/Maximillian DeSoto
Comments: 25
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here are your content warnings: Felix has a bad history with submission, and he has some unhealthy ideas about what D/s relationships look like. This will be addressed, and it might be triggering for some of you. Please take care of yourselves, and don't read if it's too much. Additionally, Max is a dick in the beginning (no appearance in this chapter, but he'll be here soon enough). There will be some slightly dubious consent surrounding a spanking, withdrawn affection as a punishment, and some makeup sex that might also read as slightly dubious.
> 
> Listen, this is also a self-indulgent fic. Everything TOW I write is self-indulgent. It's not dark, and there will be a happy ending, but the boys have some shit to work through on the way. 
> 
> Title taken from Eagles' "Victim of Love" which is this fic's unofficial theme song.

_It’s enough_ , Felix tells himself, and pulls the belt a little tighter.

It’s not tight enough to choke him, not really, but he can feel the leather pressed up against his throat, can feel the way it makes him aware of his breaths, even if it doesn’t cut them off. That’s too dangerous, without anyone watching, and the last thing he wants is ADA calling someone into his quarters because he choked himself out. No, this is enough.

He closes his eyes, imagining it’s someone else’s hand on the belt. They’d pull it tighter, make him struggle for every breath, and it would send him spiraling down into that pleasant place where he doesn’t have to think about anything, where his body feels light and time passes in a way that’s not quite right. He can’t get there completely by himself, but he can get to the edge. Taste it. Enough to tide him over until the next time he has ten minutes alone.

He hasn’t been under properly since he left the _Groundbreaker_ , and that was months ago, long enough that his own little sessions aren’t helping as much as they should be anymore. But it’s enough. It has to be. If anyone knew, if the _Captain_ knew… Felix shudders, pulling the belt tighter inadvertently. He chokes on a breath and Law, it feels good, ragged in his throat and hard in his lungs. He doesn’t want it to stop. A little tighter, and stars dance before his eyes, little pinpricks of sparkling starbursts, and he’s almost there.

The door to his room slides open with a pneumatic _whoosh_ , and instinct has Felix releasing the belt and trying to suck in a breath, but it doesn’t come. He chokes, gags, _gasps_ , fingers clawing at the belt, and it’s still not that tight but it’s tight enough that he can’t breathe anymore, not when panic is rising in his throat. Someone’s in the doorway, someone _sees_ , but he can’t make up an explanation while the belt is rendering him speechless.

“ _Fuck_ ,” the person says, and recognition makes Felix’s stomach turn over. He paws at the belt, the movements still ineffectual, but then there are fingers closing over his, easing them away, loosening the grip the belt has on his throat. He sucks in a breath, harsh and painful, and the air burns in his lungs and the pain is no longer familiar or comforting. It’s jarring, dragging him forcefully out of the pleasant headspace he’d been occupying. 

“Breathe for me, there you go.” Rhett’s voice is soft, soothing as he sets the belt aside, and his other hand never leaves the side of Felix’s neck, resting directly over his pulse. The touch is grounding, and Felix wants to lean into it, wants to take comfort from it, but he can’t. He _can’t_. He has to think, has to come up with an explanation of why he was sitting on the floor choking himself out with a belt that doesn’t result in the captain looking at him with pity and regret and then never, ever taking him out off the ship again.

If he lets him stay a member of the crew at all.

“I’m fine, boss” he rasps, but his mouth closes of its own accord when Rhett fixes him with a look. His expression is unamused - annoyed, even, his eyes dark and hard. Felix resists the urge to flinch away. He’s sensitive to the moods of others at the moment, far more than he would be normally, and every instinct has him wanting to _please_ , not anger. At the same time, he knows Rhett is expecting him to be himself - abrasive, confrontational, thick-skinned. Trying to reconcile instinct and expectation makes him dizzy, though, and it isn’t helping the situation at hand. 

“You’re not fine,” the captain says, and there’s a finality to his voice that Felix doesn’t even want to argue with. He’s not fine - he knows that, and the captain knows that, and as much as he’d like to pretend that he is, that apparently isn’t in the cards. He sighs and drops his head, shaking it a little.

“How long’s it been, kid?”

The word doesn’t grate against Felix’s skin like it does when other people call him that, like _pest_ or _sprat_ does when the vicar hisses them in his direction. He’s punched people out for calling him a kid before, broken the noses of people who dared talk to him like he was lesser, but he knows the captain doesn’t mean it as an insult, as a degradation.

Felix forces himself to smile, dragging his gaze back up to meet the older man’s. “I’m taking care of it,” he says, and that’s the truth. He’s got a system that works, mostly. The next time they dock somewhere, he’ll find some medicinals that will dull the ache, and that’ll be enough. It’ll have to be enough.

“How long, Millstone?”

Rhett’s voice goes sharp in a way that makes Felix want to flinch away, but the hand on his neck is firm, holding him there in front of the other man. His tone demands an answer. And, Felix thinks bitterly, he deserves one. The captain deserves to know who’s on his crew, about the secrets they have that could cause problems. And this, Felix thinks, even as he leans into the touch to his neck, is a problem. 

“Since I joined up with you,” he says, quietly. 

Rhett curses under his breath, and Felix braces himself for the man to do something - to push him away, or chew him out, or send him packing with a stiff order and barely-concealed disappointment. But that’s not what he gets. Instead, the captain shifts, his hand curling around the back of Felix’s neck, his thumb settling right over the younger man’s pulse. Felix feels like he’s about to be scruffed like a disobedient dog, but Rhett’s hand just lingers there, soft and gentle.

“Can I hug you?” the captain asks.

The sound that drags itself out of Felix’s throat is embarrassing - mortifying, even. He sounds pathetic, desperate, but he can’t do anything except nod and hope that the fact that he’s so fucking needy doesn’t make the other man regret the offer.

It doesn’t, or maybe it does and the captain just doesn’t show it, but either way Felix is pulled into a warm embrace, tucked in against Rhett’s chest like he belongs there. He almost wishes that it wasn’t comforting, that leaning against that wall of warm muscle didn’t make him feel better, because losing it, then, wouldn’t hurt so much. But he has no such luck. He sinks into the hug, and, tucking his nose up against the captain’s collarbone, and it’s far too intimate for what they are, for what they _aren’t_ , but Felix doesn’t complain. 

Rhett shifts, one of his hands coming up to card through Felix’s hair. The touch is reassuring, calming, and Felix nearly goes boneless from it, melting a little further into the embrace. He’s not under, and a _hug_ isn’t going to send him there, but it still feels good. Right. He can feel himself settling, comforted just by a Dom giving him attention. 

The captain moves, rearranging how he’s kneeling, and Felix has no control over the whine that escapes his throat, or the way his fingers clutch at the man’s jacket. It’s embarrassing, _humiliating_ , but Rhett doesn’t laugh at him. Instead, he makes a soft sound in his throat and holds Felix that much tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his fingers still combing through Felix’s hair. The touch is gentle, and Felix knows how many lives those hands have taken, has been there at the captain’s side for most of them, but there’s no fear in his chest, no uncertainty about making himself vulnerable for this man, his captain. Felix knows the story behind that title, too, knows the man who held it originally is dead, that the captain who kneels in front of him isn’t the one who originally piloted the Unreliable. He doesn’t care. Rhett is the man that took a chance on him, who’s now holding Felix like he’s something precious, something worth caring for. 

“I’m sorry,” Felix says, his voice mostly muffled by the captain’s shirt. He’s not quite sure what he’s apologizing for - maybe for hiding the fact that he’s a submissive, maybe for letting himself go for too long without care, maybe for being careless enough to let the captain catch him and force the man into a position where he has to do something about it. 

Rhett makes a soft sound, his hand stilling in Felix’s hair. “It’s all right,” he says. “It’s my fault. I should have checked in. You never go groundside alone when we’re docked, and I should have _noticed_ , but you didn’t say anything and wanted to make sure you had some privacy, and I just…” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m the one who’s sorry, kid. I should be looking out for you, and I’ve been doing a shitty job of it. I promise - next time we land, you can have as much time as you need, okay? And bits, if you want to hire a service Dom.”

Felix blinks, and then he rears back, fast and hard enough that he would have ended up on the floor if it wasn’t for the captain’s arms around him, holding him steady. His heart thunders in his chest, and he can hear blood rushing in his ears. “You knew?” he asks, voice thin and breathy. Panicky. “This… this whole time, you… you knew I was a sub?”

The captain frowns at him, and there’s a furrow in his brow - he looks confused, and Felix’s stomach twists with stress and uncertainty. “Yes,” the older man says slowly. “I knew when you ambushed me at the ship and tried to sweet-talk your way on board. Did you…” Rhett’s face goes a little pale, his eyes widening, as something very much like horror spreads across his countenance. “Law, Felix,” he whispers. “No. Don’t tell me you thought you had to _hide_ it.”

The whimper that tears itself from Felix’s throat is entirely involuntary, but there’s no holding it back. There’s no helping the way his eyes fill with tears, either, or the way he starts to sob, huge, heavy things that tear at his chest and throat. He loosens his grip on Rhett’s shirt, reaching up to cover his face instead, but the tears pour between his fingers. The man knew. He _knew_. 

Rhett lets him cry without interruption, just lays a hand on Felix’s shoulder and squeezes, every little while, offering comfort through a touch that isn’t overwhelming or demanding. It’s sweet - it’s probably the sweetest thing anyone has done for Felix in a long time, and that thought draw another sob out of him, though not quite as intense as the first ones. The tears peter off, and so do the sobs, eventually, leaving Felix’s face wet as his breath hitching, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head slightly, and this time he knows what he’s apologizing for. “I should’ve just… just talked to you, or something. You’re a good guy, boss, ‘n I know you are, I just…”

The captain shakes his head. “Don’t apologize for trying to protect yourself,” he says. “I get it. I’m not offended. I’m _worried_ , kid, but I’m not mad.” He smiles, just barely, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Lift your chin for me?”

Felix does, obeying the request without even thinking about it. It feels good, even though it wasn’t really an order, even though he knows Rhett wouldn’t have done anything if Felix refused. His eyes slip shut as Rhett’s hand comes up, his thumb running over the smooth skin of Felix’s neck.

“You’ll have some bruises,” the man says. “Law. You couldn’t come up with a safer way to put yourself under?”

“‘s fastest,” Felix mumbles, ducking his head when Rhett moves his hand. “Don’t have a lot of time, usually.” It’s embarrassing to admit, now, now that everything’s out in the open, that he usually chokes himself until he sees stars and calls it good. “And you don’t have to… I mean, you don’t need to pay for anyone, boss. I’m not good with…” He gestures vaguely away from himself. “People, I guess. Don’t trust easy, so going under is… hard.”

Rhett makes a soft, considering noise. “What did you do before tagging along with me?”

Felix bares his teeth before he can think about it, but the captain doesn’t flinch back, doesn’t berate him for the display, either, and the younger man takes a breath and pushes his defensiveness back down. He’s safe. He trusts the captain. “Wasn’t hard to find someone who would cane me until my brain didn’t really have a choice,” he says. “But I can’t do that, now. You need us watching your back out there, and I can’t do that if I’m laid up in bed injured.”

“Felix,” Rhett begins, but the younger man shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says firmly. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than here. You… you _care_ , about all of us, and it’s like having a family, even if Max is an asshole and SAM is a fucking robot. I can’t go back. You…” He looks up, fear clenching around his heart. “Promise me you won’t make me leave, boss. Please. I can be good. I won’t let it cause a problem, I swear, all right?”

“I’m not kicking you out,” Rhett says, immediately, and the relief Felix feels is dizzying. “You’re right, kid. We are family.” He reaches out, his hand cupping Felix’s cheek. “But I can’t just let you keep doing this to yourself either. It’s not healthy. It’s not _safe_.”

Felix let out a breath, shifting uncomfortably. The floor is cold under his knees, suddenly, and he’s noticing it now. He can also feel the bruises forming on his throat, can feel the pressure behind his eyes that tells him he’s going to have a killer headache in a little while. He’s tired, suddenly, exhausted, and he’s not quite fast enough to stifle a yawn. He throws a hand over his mouth, but Rhett just smiles, shaking his head. 

“Time for bed,” he says, and then he helps Felix to his feet, leaving a guiding hand on his arm until the younger man is settled on the mattress, tucked in under the blankets. Felix doesn’t want to touch to end, but he also wants to sleep, and he knows Rhett has better things to do than sit by his bedside and hold his hand until he wakes up. Still, he knows he frowns when the captain pulls his hand away, even if he tries to quell the expression.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Rhett assures him. “And we’ll figure something out, okay? Something safe, that works. I promise.” He smiles, the expression fond, and Felix’s eyelids flutter a little. “Get some rest, kid.”

“‘kay, boss.”

Felix is asleep before the door closes fully on Rhett’s retreating form.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhett was the name of my first OC's love interest (fun story, I actually _sold_ the rights to that idea. I don't know if anything will ever become of it, but it's kind of cool to make money off something you create). The captain doesn't have a canonical name, which is fine for second-person fics, because you never have to use it! But it doesn't work as well for this one, so I gave him a name. Don't @ me.
> 
> (Kidding, I love you all, please don't hate my captain).


	2. Chapter 2

Morning dawns, and Rhett would like to be able to say that it brings consciousness along with it, but he’s pretty fucking certain that he spent all night awake, staring at the ceiling, so consciousness never really left. He rubs his eyes, wincing at the dry, gritty feeling, and impulsively puts _take a shower_ at the top of his priorities list.

The item directly under that, of course, is _talk to Felix_. Rhett finds that he’s dreading the conversation. In another life, he would have filed an HR report and given the kid some paid time off to deal with whatever he was going through, but the _Unreliable_ doesn’t have an HR department and Rhett has the sneaking suspicion that leaving the kid on a planet somewhere to deal will his problems will cause more harm than good. He jokes, talks about being a back bay brat and an orphan with levity in his voice, but he’s clearly got some abandonment issues, and Rhett doesn’t want to add to them. He doesn’t want to hurt the kid.

He doesn’t want the kid to hurt himself, either.

The image of Felix on his knees, a belt tight around his throat, pops into Rhett’s mind, unbidden, and all he feels is sharp, unadulterated anger. Not at Felix, no - it’s not the kid’s fault no one’s ever been kind to him, but Rhett is furious at anyone who’s ever put their hands on the kid and hasn’t taken the time to give him what he needs.

_Wasn’t hard to find someone who would cane me until my brain didn’t really have a choice._

Law, they need to talk.

Rhett takes a shower, tries to wash away the tension and worry, but by the time he steps out, dripping wet, he’s still not sure what he’s going to say. It’s clear that Felix can’t keep doing what he’s been doing, but what other solution is there? They’re never in one place for very long, which won’t let the kid develop a relationship with anyone planetside. And Rhett isn’t going to suggest Felix try to start something up with one of the crew. That’s too much responsibility to put on them, responsibility Rhett should be shouldering himself. He’s the one who’s in charge, dammit. It’s his job to fix this. 

His hindbrain, traitorous as always, pictures Felix on his knees again, except this time he’s kneeling for Rhett, looking up at him with contentment instead of startled fear, easy obedience in his posture. It’s a pretty picture, and Rhett lingers on it for a few moments longer than he should before forcibly shoving the thought away. There’s no way Felix would trust him with that, not when the kid was so adamant about keeping his submissive status a secret. There’s no way Rhett can bring it up, either, without forever worrying that he’d forced the kid into a situation he didn’t want.

He’s still trying to think of a solution as he walks back to his quarters, rubbing a towel through his damp hair, distracted enough that, when he turns the corner, he almost runs into the subject of his thoughts. Felix is standing outside his quarters, leaning up against Rhett’s door, his arms crossed on his chest and a defiant, almost belligerent look on his face. He looks ready for a fight, not for a chat, and Rhett’s stomach tightens at the thought.

“And here I thought I was gonna have to drag you out of your room for this,” the captain says. “You feeling okay, kid?”

Felix stiffens. “I’m fine,” he says, and his voice is harsh and his eyes are narrowed and Rhett wants nothing more than to soothe. Instinct tells him to reach out, to draw the kid into a hug and hold him until he calms down, but he’s not sure that would actually calm him down.

“‘kay,” Rhett says instead, scrubbing his hair once more with the towel. “You want to come in? It’s probably best to have this conversation in private.”

Felix clenches his teeth, the muscles in his jaw working as he nods, sharply. He steps aside to let Rhett open the door, and then follows inside behind him, although he doesn’t go much farther than the entrance. He does close the door behind him, though, which Rhett figures can’t be a _bad sign_ , but the kid’s still stiff, still tense, still holding himself like he’s waiting for Rhett to throw a punch, or… or, Rhett thinks, his stomach sinking a little, waiting to be given orders he’s not comfortable with.

Rhett sighs, tossing his wet towel into the corner. “Sit down,” he says, gesturing at the desk, and Felix’s lip curls into a snarl before the words are even fully out of his mouth. He waits, though, and eventually the kid realizes Rhett didn’t order him to his knees, or to undress, or to fucking bare his neck in some primitive display of submission, and his shoulders slump a little. 

“Fuck,” Felix says eloquently, reaching up to press his palms against his eyes. “I’m sorry, boss. I haven’t dropped this hard in a long time.”

Rhett makes a sympathetic noise, but he doesn’t move any closer, doesn’t reach out like he wants to to draw Felix into a hug. Instead, he says, “Sit down, Felix,” again, and his voice is a little softer, but it’s just as firm. Felix nods, half to himself, and then takes a seat at the desk, putting his elbows on his knees and dropping his face into his hands.

Rhett perches on the corner of the desk and looks down at the kid and thinks _what am I going to do with you?_ But he doesn’t say it out loud. Out loud, he says, “You have to know you can’t do that anymore, kid. Don’t you?”

Felix flinches at the sound of his voice. He nods once, sharply. “I know,” he says, voice low and rough, and Rhett aches to comfort him, to soothe away the pain that’s so evident in the taught lines of his body, but first…

“I want you to stay here. Part of my crew. But if you want that, too, then we need to find a solution.”

Felix makes a sound, soft and humorless. “There aren’t any solutions,” he says. “I mean, not unless you’re hiding someone who can Dom for me up here. Nyoka’s never sober enough to Dom. Parv has Junlei. Ellie’s…” He trails off, teeth gritting together, and Rhett doesn’t need to hear the words to know what he wants to say. 

“Her needs are different than yours,” he finishes for the kid, and Felix nods tightly.

“And I’m not fucking kneeling for the vic. I’m sorry, boss, I am, I just… I _can’t_ …”

“I know,” Rhett interrupts. “You two tolerate each other on a good day. I wouldn’t ask you to make yourself vulnerable for someone you don’t trust, kid.”

Felix snorts. “Ain’t many people I trust,” he says, and then looks up, meeting Rhett’s eyes. “And you… well.” He shrugs one shoulder, brushing off the trailing sentence. “So. You got another angle to look at this from? ‘cause the way I see it, I’m fucked, and not in the fun way.”

Rhett barely resists the urge to roll his eyes, but he can’t stop the ghost of a smile that graces his lips. He likes the kid, likes his sass and his sarcasm and his humor. “You started saying something about me.”

Well, so much for not fucking bringing it up.

The kid actually blushes, color rising in his tan cheeks as he looks away, ducking his head. “Ah,” he says, eloquently. “I didn’t… is that an option?”

Rhett raises an eyebrow. “Do you want it to be?”

Felix doesn’t answer immediately and Rhett has to give him credit for that. The kid looks like he actually thinks about it, doesn’t just jump in feet-first and to hell with the consequences. And, dammit, Rhett is _proud_. Regardless of the answer Felix is going to give him, he’s proud of that moment of consideration, of the fact that Felix actually gives the question the serious thought it deserves.

“What happens when I fuck it up?”

Rhett’s heart fucking _shatters_. 

Something must show on his face, because Felix shakes his head. “No,” he continues, “listen. I’m hard to deal with. I don’t go under easy. I get snappy and defensive when I drop. I _hate_ collars. I’m…” He halts, drawing in a shaky breath. “I’m just not _good_ , okay? And trust me, the novelty of trying to break in the bratty sub disappears real quick. So I need to know what happens after I push you too far.”

As much as Rhett hates it, this is a conversation that’s familiar. He had it before he went on the ice, more than once, with submissives who had had their boundaries ignored, who had experienced punishments that far outweighed the crimes that had brought them on. They’d questioned him, goaded him, tried to get his patience to snap so that they would know what kind of worst to expect from him. 

“I’m not going to promise I won’t punish you,” Rhett says carefully, and Felix’s eyes narrow. “What? You’re going to do things that deserve a punishment. I’m not going to take a flogger to your ass until you bleed, but I’m not going to ignore deliberate rule-breaking, either. Believe it or not, there is middle ground, there.”

Felix huffs. “I…” he begins, and then shakes his head. “That’s not what most people say.”

“What do most people say?”

“‘ _I could never hurt a pretty thing like you._ ’”

“And then they do.”

“And then they do,” Felix agrees, shrugging one shoulder. “I know it’s not nice, to imply that you’d do that, or whatever, but…”

“But you’ve been burned one too many times to just stick your hand in the fire again. I get it.” Rhett reaches out, finally, but he keeps the touch casual, ruffling Felix’s hair before dropping his hand back to his side, trying to ignore the way Felix leans in a little, like he’s trying to chase the contact. “I don’t expect you to stop looking out for yourself. I don’t expect you to stop _being_ yourself, either. You’re mouthy and antagonistic - bratty, some would say - and I don’t expect you to be any different, even if I do take you on as my sub.”

“Your sub,” Felix repeats, and for a moment Rhett thinks he’s overstepped, pushed too far, offended the kid in some way, but then Felix gives a faint little shiver and bites his lip, throwing a quick glance up at the captain. “That’s… you make it sound so easy, boss.”

Rhett smiles a little, and this time, when he reaches out, his hand lingers, placed carefully on the back of Felix’s neck. It’s a possessive gesture, a claim, and he half-expects the kid to pull away and snarl at him. But Felix, as usual, is full of surprises. The kid lets out a soft little hurt sound, and then he’s leaning forward, resting his forehead against Rhett’s thigh.

“It probably won’t be easy,” Rhett admits quietly. He squeezes the back of Felix’s neck, and he doesn’t feel too guilty about enjoying the way Felix shivers, the kid’s hands coming up to encircle the older man’s calf. “But I’m up for it, if you are.”

For a long moment, Felix doesn’t answer, and Rhett lets the silence drag on. It’s not uncomfortable, and Rhett himself isn’t anywhere near uncomfortable in a physical sense either - Felix’s head is a gentle weight against his thigh, his pulse soft and steady under his palm, and it’s nearly impossible not to think about the future, if Felix says yes, because the kid’s submission is right there below the surface and Rhett can feel it. And he’s selfish enough to admit, at least to himself, that he wants it. But he doesn’t speak, doesn’t press the issue, doesn’t do anything other than leave his hand across the back of Felix’s neck and breathe with him in the silence of the room.

It takes him by surprise when Felix says, “I won’t submit for you in public,” his voice harsh and firm, so contrary to the way he’s all but slumped against Rhett’s leg.

Rhett’s exhale is shaky. “I wouldn’t expect you to,” he says. “And I wouldn’t ask you to share any part of yourself with anyone you weren’t comfortable with.”

The last of the tension seems to drain out of Felix’s body, and he really does slump against Rhett’s leg. The position is awkward, given the kid’s still sitting in the desk chair, and Rhett is perched on the edge of the desk, but it’s good, too. It’s good when Felix says, barely audible, “I don’t know how I keep getting this lucky with you, boss.”

Rhett snorts his laughter before he can stop himself, and it takes a moment, but Felix does look up, his eyes wide. “I didn’t mean it like that!” he protests, and Rhett doesn’t say anything, just chuckles again, and the kid huffs, frowning. “Okay, maybe I meant it a little like that,” he amends. 

Rhett makes an unamused sound, but it’s only for show, as is evidenced by the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re something else,” he murmurs, pushing his fingers through Felix’s hair. “And if I wasn’t so concerned about doing this right, I’d fuck you over this desk right now.”

Felix chokes out a moan at that, but Rhett continues as if he hadn’t made a sound. “But you’re worth the time and the effort to do this right. So instead of getting bent over the desk, you’re going to go back to your room, and you’re going to make me a list of things you like and things you don’t like. Things you need, and things you can’t do.” Rhett smiles, and the expression is probably more fond than it has any right to be. “Things you want to get lucky with, and things you don’t. Take your time with it. I want you to be honest, and not just say what you think I want to hear.”

Felix groans, and this sound is definitely less pleasurable than the last. But he also doesn’t argue, and that’s something that Rhett is willing to count as a win. So he pushes, just a little, squeezing the back of Felix’s neck as he says, “Can you be a good boy for me and do this?”

With a rough exhale, Felix nods. He nods again, more to himself, and then lifts his head, meeting Rhett’s gaze. “ _Okay_ ,” he says, and the word sounds oddly deliberate. It’s confusing for half a second, until Rhett realizes what Felix _didn’t_ say. What he’d be expected to say, in most cases.

“We’ll talk about that,” he says. “What you’re comfortable calling me, what I’m comfortable hearing from you. For now, don’t worry about changing anything, kid. I’ll always let you know what I expect from you. No guesswork. All right?”

“No guesswork,” Felix repeats. “Yeah, all right, boss.” He stands, slowly, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck as the movement makes him taller than Rhett. “I’ll just…” He makes a gesture at the door that turns into a pantomime of writing. “You know. Lists ‘n stuff.”

“Go on,” Rhett says, and even he hears the fondness that’s lacing his voice. Felix grins, ducks his head in an almost-nod, an almost-bow, and then he’s out the door, and Rhett is alone in his room.

But silence doesn’t exactly follow Felix on the way out. 

“ _Ah, did our captain finally get around to reprimanding you? It’s a miracle his patience has lasted this long, to be honest._ ”

Max’s voice is grating, and Rhett has the urge to get up and go tell him off, but he doubts the kid would appreciate that. In any case, he knows Felix is more than capable of fighting his own battles, especially where the vicar is concerned - the two of them haven’t been subtle in their disagreements.

“Fuck off, vic,” Felix says, ease in his voice. “I don’t actually have time to deal with you today.”

“ _You’re usually itching to be put in your place. Has something changed? Is… oh, Felix, is that why you’re leaving the captain’s quarters at such an early hour?_ ”

Felix doesn’t reply, and Rhett hopes against hope that the kid decided to just walk away. 

“ _Sprat have your tongue? _”__

__Rhett sighs. He has half a mind to get up and slam the door shut, just to let the two of them know that he can _hear_ , but before he can decide either way, Felix _laughs_. The sound is bright and clear and honest, and it’s not at all what Rhett is expecting. The sound of a slap, maybe, or a grunt as a body hits a wall, but a laugh? _ _

__“Don’t be jealous, vic. It’s not a good look on you.”_ _

__Rhett actually hears Felix’s footsteps fading away, and perhaps more pointedly, he doesn’t hear Max’s doing the same. He can’t help the smirk that comes to his face. Felix is feisty, unafraid, and now that the option is on the table Rhett is quickly realizing how attractive he finds those qualities._ _

__Deliberately, he turns his thoughts away. The pants he’s wearing, loose as they are, won’t hide anything. And he’s sure Max wasn’t hanging out outside his room just for fun._ _

__“Is there something I can help you with, Max?” he calls, just loud enough to be heard outside the room._ _

__There’s a shuffle of footsteps, and then Max appears in the doorway, his face a perfect blank mask. It’s almost impressive, Rhett thinks. But Max’s mask of indifference falters, just slightly, when his eyes land on Rhett’s bare chest. He coughs politely._ _

__“Is this a bad time, captain?”_ _

__“It’s fine.” Rhett flips the lid of his trunk open, digging around until he finds a shirt. “What can I do for you?”_ _

__The vicar hesitates, but the pause feels forced. “I wanted to ask a favor,” he says after a moment. “Though I’m worried that all your goodwill is being wasted on that back bay sprat.”_ _

__Rhett makes a sound that’s not quite agreement, not quite a dismissal, and tugs the shirt on. Max, however, seems to take the lack of response as an invitation to continue._ _

__“Really,” he says, “I understand the desire for a _dalliance_ , but I can’t imagine that the boy would be very satisfying. He’s very clearly out of… practice, shall we say.”_ _

__It’s not really a surprise that Max doesn’t fit any of the switch stereotypes Rhett knows. They’re supposed to be loose, in every sense of the word. Relaxed, easygoing, just plain easy - but Max is wound tight, and even on the few occasions that Rhett has seen him return from a pleasure house, the vicar has never been relaxed. If anything, those sessions always seem to leave him more on edge, and Rhett has a sneaking suspicion as to why._ _

__“What’s the saying about people in glass houses?”_ _

__The vicar glares. “I’m sure I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”_ _

__Rhett makes a soft, considerate noise. “Oh, yeah? You want to have this talk? When was the last time you submitted to someone, Max?”_ _

__Max’s lip curls into a wordless snarl, but the expression is there and gone in a second, replaced almost immediately by careful, poised aloofness.The vicar straightens, then, pulling on the lapels of his jacket a little more firmly than necessary._ _

__“My _submission_ is none of your concern, captain.”_ _

__“And Felix’s is,” Rhett replies easily. “I like you, Max, I do. And I feel for you and what you’re dealing with. But I’m not going to allow you to take out all that internalized hatred on the kid. He doesn’t deserve it.”_ _

__“I suppose it’s easy to develop favorites when you’re fucking them,” Max says stiffly, and Rhett has to swallow back the growl that rises in his throat, because he knows that’s the reaction Max wants. The vicar is pushing his buttons, and it’s not for the same reasons that Felix did, but it’s also _not_ not for the same reasons. _ _

__Rhett takes a deep, steadying breath._ _

__“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, vic,” he says, keeping his tone even through sheer force of will. “You should work on that.”_ _

__He shoulders past the stunned vicar without another word, and part of him hopes that this will be the end of it, of the confrontations between Max and Felix, of the holier-than-thou attitude the vicar is so fond of._ _

__The rest of him knows, however, that it won’t be._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, there's Max! I promise this is an OT3 fic - Max just hasn't quite gotten there yet.


	3. Chapter 3

Writing down the things he likes is harder than Felix expected. 

It shouldn’t be. He knows what he _doesn’t_ like all too well. He knows he’d hate it if Rhett slapped him with an open hand, knows that his stomach would turn if the captain tied him up and left him alone, bound and helpless. That list is easy. Detailed. Felix puts _collars_ on it and underlines the word twice, puts _blood_ right underneath a moment later, and then scribbles _public submission_ and _I won’t fucking pretend that I’m a schoolgirl or some shit_ , and he thinks that wraps it up quite nicely. 

There are other things he could add, but that’s enough. He’s already nixed some big things, things he’s sure Rhett has on his own ‘likes’ list. Those are the big things. Everything else he can deal with, even if he doesn’t like it. 

But the other list? The other list is fucking impossible. 

He’s never been asked what he likes, before. The other thing, sure - he’s been told to outline his hard limits, asked if he has preferences, usually regarding protection and position, but never about what he wants. And, as it turns out, thinking about what he wants from Rhett, _with_ Rhett, is a much more complicated task that he anticipated, because every thought of the man’s hands on him, or, Law, _in_ him, sends a frisson of pleasure up Felix’s spine. 

He’s half-hard and two hours into his project when he sets the pencil down and thumps his head down on the desk. There’s a single word on it, and that’s _sex_ , because Rhett has said _things you want to get lucky with_ with a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face, and that’s easy. Felix wants that. But he also knows Rhett won’t be satisfied if that’s the only thing on his list, because sex isn’t going to put him under. 

He thinks about taking care of himself, about wrapping a belt around his throat and tugging, and then he thinks about how he’d feel if it was Rhett’s hand instead of a belt and squirms involuntarily in his seat. Just thinking about it has his breaths coming a little more shallowly, like those fingers are already curling around his neck and squeezing just enough to be felt. Letting out a shaky sigh, he puts _choking_ on the list. 

Two hours for two items. At this rate, it’ll be the end of the week before he can get Rhett to touch him again.

Well, desperate times and all that.

“ADA,” he says, barely loud enough to be heard. “If I… ask you some stuff, do you have to tell the captain about it?”

“ _I provide the captain with relevant information regarding the ship and his crew. Are your questions personal or professional?_ ”

“Personal,” Felix says quickly. “Uh, really personal. And it’s not… I’m not trying to keep secrets from him or anything, I just want to figure shit out before we talk.”

“ _Unless there is cause for concern, I can keep personal inquiries confidential._ ”

Felix lets out a breath. “Thanks, ADA.”

“ _No need to thank me for performing my essential duties, but the gesture is appreciated. What can I help you with, Mr. Millstone?_ ”

Swallowing, Felix looks down at the paper. “I, um,” he begins, “I don’t really know what I like, I guess.” And, oh, that’s depressing to say out loud. “I haven’t really done this before. I don’t…” His voice trails off, and when there’s no immediate response from ADA, Felix feels a flush start to rise in his cheeks.

“ _I could list some common interests for you to consider. I am assuming these ‘likes’ you are discussing are for submission?_ ”

“Yeah,” Felix says, a little surprised that it’s not harder to admit that. “Yeah. Captain’s gonna, um… take me on. For a little bit, at least. We’ll see how things go.” He swallows, nodding a little. “Okay, go for it.”

“ _Restraints._ ”

Felix grimaces. And that, he supposes, is answer enough to that.

“No bondage,” he says. “At least, not anything serious. I don’t… I don’t think I wanna feel like I can’t escape.”

ADA, Law bless her, acknowledges his words with a positive beeping sound, and that’s it. There’s no attempt at consolation, no pity masquerading as concern. Felix relaxes a little, sitting back in his chair. “You got more?”

“ _Impact play._ ”

“No,” Felix says immediately. “No, that’s… that’s a no.” He glances over at his lists and sighs, giving himself a moment to debate it in his head before he leans over and writes down _impact play_ on his ‘no’ list. Hopefully, Rhett doesn’t have a collection of whips and paddles he’s intent on using.

ADA makes another sound, and Felix wonders where she’s pulling her examples from. He wonders if she has access to a list of Rhett’s likes and dislikes, and if she’s reading them off from there. He hopes not. Nixing the first two things right off the bat wouldn’t bode very well for the future.

“ _Orgasm delay or denial_ ,” ADA says, and Felix… Felix doesn’t shoot it down.

It seems counter-intuitive, wanting to have sex but getting turned on by being denied. But it makes his dick twitch in his pants to think about Rhett bringing him to the edge, with his hand or his mouth or a toy, and then not letting him tip over. He shivers, squirming in his seat, and hastily adds two items to his ‘yes’ list: _orgasm delay, edging._

“ _I take it that suggestion was amenable?_ ” ADA asks, and Felix can’t help but grin.

“Yeah,” he answers. “Yeah, that was a good one.”

“ _Titles and pet names._ ”

Felix blinks at that one. “That’s a thing?” he asks, and then shakes his head, because that’s a stupid question. “I mean, I know it’s a thing, but I kinda figured it was universal? Doesn’t every Dom want to have a title?”

“ _Not every submissive wishes to address their Dominant with a title,_ ” ADA responds. “ _And you can have one without the other._ ”

Felix’s hand is moving before he really thinks about it, writing down _pet names_ in a messy scribble. He can hear Rhett’s voice in his head, calling him _sweetheart_ or _baby_ and it makes something curl in his gut, something tight and warm and pleasant. It’s almost like arousal, but not as sharp and demanding. Felix wants to sink into it, wants to fucking bask in it like a sprat in the sun. He shifts, stretching, feeling the front of his pants stretch across his half-hard dick.

“ADA,” he says, reaching down to pop the button on his pants. “Would you lock the d-”

The door to Felix’s room opens abruptly, and Felix is about to lecture ADA on the difference between _lock_ and _open_ (because apparently, that’s something she needs), but he realizes soon enough that it’s not ADA that opened the door.

Max looks him up and down, taking in the way he’s slumped in his chair, hand already sliding between his legs. “Typical,” he says, his tone derisive and full of contempt. “Sometimes I wonder why submissives have such a… _loose_ reputation, but you never fail to remind me, Millstone. Is our dear captain already leaving you unsatisfied?”

Felix bristles, pushing up to his feet. “Shut _up_ ,” he hisses. The accusation itches under his skin - not the dig against his reputation, but the insult against Rhett, the implication that the captain would be anything but considerate and caring and damn well _perfect_. “The fuck is your problem? Do you really have nothing better to worry about than who I get on my knees for?”

Max’s lip curls in distaste. ”Is the vulgarity part of your charm?” he asks, and then waves his hand when Felix opens his mouth to answer. “No, hush up and listen. I’m here to do you a favor. Getting yourself entangled with the captain is a disaster just waiting to happen, dear boy. You’d be much better off…” He trails off, humming quietly. “Mmm, _fucking off,_ as you would say. You’re just going to prolong the inevitable. 

“Go away,” Felix says, but there’s not the usual amount of heat behind his words. Max’s warning hits a little too close to home, aligns a little too well with his own fears. “You don’t know the captain any better than I do. You’ve got no fucking right to -”

“The man has submissives waiting for him in every city we’ve ever landed in,” Max interrupts, and Felix knows that something has to show on his face, because the man’s expression turns predatory a moment later. “Really, now, what did you think? That he had been denying himself as well? Please. Our dear captain is very familiar with getting his itches scratched whenever he feels even the slightest urge - except, of course, when we’re in orbit.”

As if to accentuate his statement, the ship shudders as the engines kick on, keeping them safe in their orbit around Monarch. Max smiles, and Felix has to restrain from shivering. 

“I trust him,” Felix bites out. “He’s never lied to me. _You_ , on the other hand…”

Max raises his hands in mock-surrender. “I’m simply trying to look out for you,” he says, and his voice has an honest ring to it. Felix wants to believe him - he thinks, maybe, that Max actually is trying to help, in his own twisted, fucked up way, but he doesn’t need the vicar sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong. 

“Was there something you wanted?” he asks. “Because if there isn’t, I’d appreciate you getting the fuck out of my room.”

Max shakes his head, turns, and walks away, muttering under his breath, and Felix is sure that, whatever he’s saying, it isn’t particularly complimentary. He sighs, sinking back into his chair, irritated at the fact that the growing arousal he’d been feeling vanished the second the door opened to reveal the vicar.

“ _Begging_ ,” ADA says, and Felix chokes on an inhale.

Well, _vanished_ might be a strong word.

* * *

Most of the crew has tucked into bed by the time Felix works up the courage to go see Rhett.

It’s not that he’s scared. He’s not. Fear isn’t the emotion that’s pressing behind his ribs, tightening in his throat, making his pulse flutter and thump in his ears. He’s nervous, sure, a little high-strung and tense, even, but he’s not scared. That would be ridiculous, especially considering how good and kind Rhett has been. There’s nothing to be scared _of_. 

The fear that’s twisting in Felix’s gut, apparently, has other ideas.

But he’s fine. His hands shake a little when he reaches up to knock on Rhett’s door, and his palm is sweaty where it’s clutched around his lists, but he’s fine. He just… needs to breathe. Relax. Get his heartbeat under fucking control.

Rhett opens the door, and before he can say anything, Felix blurts, “Max said you’ve got a sub in every city with a landing pad.”

For a moment, Rhett just looks at him, confusion written all over his face, and then he closes his eyes and breathes out through his nose, and Felix winces. That’s not denial. That’s not even _close_ to denial. _Fuck_. 

“Come inside,” Rhett says, and it’s against Felix’s better judgement but he goes anyway, lets Rhett close the door behind them to at least offer them the illusion of privacy. It’s a good sign. It means Rhett wants to talk. It means there are things to say, and Felix is ready to listen, to hear Rhett cut Max down and chew him out and...

“He’s… not wrong.”

The words hit Felix like a physical blow. 

Of course. Of course this was too good to be true. Max was right. Felix is a temporary solution to Rhett’s involuntary celibacy, a _convenience_. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Oh,” he manages. He takes a step back. “Right, yeah. I’m just… I don’t think I can…”

“ _Shit_ , Felix. That’s not… Listen, kid, can I explain?”

Felix flinches when Rhett’s hand lands on his shoulder, but the captain doesn’t pull away. Instead, he brings his other hand up to gently cup Felix’s cheek, turning his face up. “Listen,” he says. “Max was right. I have arrangements with people in places we frequent. I’m not going to lie about that. But I also didn’t expect to continue those arrangements if I started Domming for you.” Rhett’s thumb brushes over his cheekbone, and Felix can’t help but shudder at the touch. “It’s one of the things we were going to talk about, because I have a lot of experience with scenes, but I haven’t had anything long-term in… in a while.” The smile that graces Rhett’s face turns a little lopsided. “Definitely not in this century.”

“Oh,” Felix says again, aware that he sounds like a broken record but unable to do anything else. He swallows, and then leans into Rhett’s hand. “Good,” he says. “Not - not about you not having anything long-term. About it just being… us. I…” He wrinkles his nose. “Fuck. Can you tell I’m nervous?”

“It’s cute,” Rhett says, and Felix feels a blush staining his cheeks. He straightens, shrugging away from Rhett’s hands as he reaches up to rub the back of his neck. He coughs, and then glances up at the other man.

“‘m not cute,” he mumbles, the protest sounding half-hearted even to his own ears. But to his further embarrassment, Rhett just chuckles, flashing Felix a smile that’s altogether more fond than it has any right to be.

“Adorable,” Rhett says, and Felix’s cheeks flame. For a moment, he thinks the captain is going to continue, but instead the man just reaches out, ruffling Felix’s hair lightly before turning back to his desk and picking up the sheets of paper. 

“I’ll look these over,” he says, and then separates one of the sheets out and hands it to Felix. “This one’s mine. I know how hard it is putting something like this together, especially for the first time, so I figured it would only be fair for you to see mine.” He pauses. “Anything that’s on there… it’s not a list of demands, kid. Just a list of things that I like that I’m willing to do, and a list of things I don’t like that I’m not willing to do.” He gestures to Felix’s lists. “It’s fine if you want to add to this later, too. Or change it. Or…”

Rhett keeps talking, but Felix stops listening. His eyes fall to the sheet in his hands, to the first few items listed in the column of Rhett’s likes.

Breathplay.

Rimming.

Crying.

“...listening to me, kid?”

Felix makes a sound in his throat that’s disturbingly close to a whine, turning wide eyes up to Rhett’s face. “No,” he says, honestly. “Sorry. Got distracted by… by this.” He waves the list. “It’s, uh… it’s not really _fair_. How do you expect me to _talk _about this shit now that I know you want to… to…”__

__“Eat you out until you’re sobbing for it?” Rhett supplies helpfully, and Felix whines again, helpless arousal making his voice high and desperate. Rhett, the bastard, just grins, looking for all the world like they’re talking about the fucking weather instead of fucking each other. “Yeah, I had a feeling you’d be into that.”_ _

__“I’ve never -” Felix begins, but that’s as far as his voice makes it before cracking. “I, uh, I mean, I’ve _cried_ , but I’ve never…” He gestures, broadly, and understanding blossoms on Rhett’s face._ _

__“You’ve never been rimmed,” he says. Felix wants to know how he can say that without a hitch in his voice. It’s not fucking fair. He’s opening his mouth to ask when Rhett fixes him with a look that’s pure desire and heat and _dominance. _____

____“Felix,” he asks, his voice soft. “Would you like to be my submissive?”_ _ _ _

____Felix nods, throat working soundlessly around a word, and Rhett just waits, his expression patient, until Felix manages to swallow. He nods again. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, yes, _please._ ”_ _ _ _

____“Sweetheart,” Rhett murmurs, and Felix shivers because _oh_ , right, the list. Rhett has the list. He knows. “Sweetheart,” he says, “what’s your safeword?”_ _ _ _

____“Rungleech,” Felix says immediately, and he feels like preening at the obvious approval on Rhett’s face._ _ _ _

____“I want to do a scene,” the captain continues. “You’d be on your hands and knees, on the bed, and I’d rim you until I felt like stopping. You could come whenever you wanted, but I reserve the right to keep going afterwards.” Rhett pauses. “I’ll take care of you, afterwards, no matter if you use your safeword or not. I take care of what’s mine, Felix. Do you understand?”_ _ _ _

____Possessiveness has never been an attractive quality in Felix’s eyes, but he has to admit, he’s starting to see the appeal. The aftercare he has experienced has been lackluster and sparse, but there’s no doubt in his mind that Rhett means what he says. _I take care of what’s mine_. Fuck. That’s going to be ringing in Felix’s ears for a while._ _ _ _

____“Okay,” he says. “Yeah, boss, I understand.”_ _ _ _

____“Good boy.”_ _ _ _

____Heat flares in the pit of Felix’s stomach, but before he has time to think about it, Rhett nods at his bunk. “Bed?” he asks, and it’s definitely a question, giving Felix the room to back out if he wants to._ _ _ _

____Felix is moving toward the bed before he’s even really conscious of it, but Rhett’s hand on his arm stops him before he’s taken more than two steps. “Use your words,” the man says. His voice is soft - a direction, not a reprimand. “Agree or disagree, I need to hear you.”_ _ _ _

____Felix swallows the lump in his throat, nodding once, twice before his mouth fits around the sentence. “Okay,” he repeats. “Yes, fuck. I am on board with this.”_ _ _ _

____Rhett’s smile, when he flashes it, is brilliant._ _ _ _

____“Then strip,” he says. “And get on your knees. Ass in the air.”_ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you know ~~who's~~ what's coming next. 
> 
> Also, pretty boys with hard dicks and tears in their eyes are my jam. So that's coming, too. I'd apologize, but... I'm not sorry?


	4. Chapter 4

Felix strips hastily, fingers clumsy and shaky with nerves, and it takes every ounce of Rhett’s willpower not to step in and take over. The thought is tempting - he imagines peeling back the layers of coarse fabric to reveal pale skin, imagines pressing kisses to every inch of it until Felix can’t focus on being nervous any longer. And one day, he thinks, he will. But for today, for both their sakes, the kid needs to have some palpable control over the situation. 

Still, Rhett murmurs, “Easy, sweetheart,” when Felix yanks hard enough on his shirt to tear a seam, says, “That’s it, good boy,” when the younger man manages to undo the laces on his boots and kick them away. He takes note of the way Felix shivers at the praise, the way his eyes turn up to Rhett’s face right after he says it, unconsciously seeking more. Rhett wonders if he’s ever been praised in any sense, inside a scene or out of it. 

“Hold on, just a second,” he says, when Felix goes to kneel on the bed. “Nothing’s wrong,” he adds, quickly, and the look of relief that washes over Felix’s face tells him it’s the right thing to say. “I still definitely want to continue this. I just want to look at you first.”

The kid blushes at that, ducking his head, and he shifts a little on his feet, lacing his hands behind his back. Rhett’s still dressed, and Felix isn’t, and it’s just enough of a power imbalance to be noticable, to be embarrassing if you’re not used to it. Rhett can’t help but smile as he steps a little closer, reaching out to put a hand on Felix’s bare hip. 

Felix’s cock jerks at the touch, hanging half-hard between his legs. Rhett hums, and lets his hand skate up over Felix’s skin, smoothing over his ribs, his belly, up his chest. His thumb catches a nipple and Felix chokes out a moan, the blush on his cheeks spreading down his neck as soon as the sound leaves his mouth. 

“Yeah?” Rhett asks softly, and repeats the motion, letting his thumbnail dig into the slightly darker skin. The pain is there and gone again, just a taste, a test, but Felix leans into the touch, his wide, dark eyes fixed firmly on Rhett’s face in silent shock and wonder. “Oh,” he says, voice shaky. “That’s…”

Rhett leans down, and the way he has to hunch his shoulders isn’t comfortable, but it’s worth the way Felix’s whole body goes rigid when he takes the younger man’s nipple into his mouth. Keeping teeth out of it, he laves over the hardening bud with his tongue before sucking on it, lightly. 

“Fuck!” Felix hisses, but he presses forward into Rhett’s mouth, seeking more. Happily, the captain gives it to him, scraping a canine over the pebbled skin and licking over the sting. He pulls back when Felix moans again, swiping over the wet, swollen nub with his thumb just to watch the kid shiver at the touch. 

“Couldn’t resist,” Rhett says, flashing a grin. “I’m going to get my mouth on every inch of you, baby, just you wait.”

Felix makes a sound that’s all high-pitched arousal, blinking at Rhett as the other man straightens. “Bed now,” Rhett says, nudging Felix backwards. “You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

“Haven’t done anything,” Felix mumbles, but he obeys, moving to arrange himself on all fours on the bed. He drops his head and arches his back just a little, and Rhett rewards him for the pretty picture by stroking a hand down his flank. Felix trembles at the touch, pushing back into it, eager and greedy and wanting, and fuck, Rhett wants to give him everything and anything.

Rhett settles in behind the boy, sitting on his heels, close enough that he can brush his hands up and down Felix’s bare thighs with ease, He continues his exploration of the younger man’s body, running his palms over the curve of his ass, dipping between his thighs to trace fingertips over the length of Felix’s cock, fully hard now, and leaking from the tip. His balls are already drawn up tight against his body, and lightly pushing a knuckle against them makes Felix moan again, loud and wanting.

“Don’t worry about lasting,” Rhett says, leaning down to kiss the small of Felix’s back. “And use your safeword if it becomes too much, all right?”

Felix nods, head bobbing between his arms, and Rhett is about to remind him to use his words when he says, “All right,” his voice soft, muted. He’s not down, or he doesn’t sound like it, not completely, but he’s relaxed. Letting himself slip towards subspace, trusting Rhett to take him there. 

“So good for me,” Rhett says against Felix’s skin, and the boy shivers. He squirms when Rhett’s mouth wanders, lips ghosting over the swell of his ass, and he sucks in a sharp breath when Rhett spreads him open with both hands.

“Relax, baby,” Rhett murmurs, and then licks a flat, wet stripe over Felix’s hole.

The sound that tears itself from Felix’s throat almost sounds pained, though Rhett knows it isn’t. That’s evident in the way Felix pushes back against his mouth, searching out the touch again. Rhett complies with the unspoken demand. With his hands holding Felix’s hips in place, he spears his tongue and thrusts it just past the tight ring of muscle. 

Felix’s hips jerk, first away from Rhett’s mouth, and then back towards it, the line of his back trembling just a hair. “Fuck,” he says, half under his breath. “Law, boss, that’s…”

Rhett curls his tongue and Felix’s words dissolve into a moan. The graceful arch of his back all but collapses, leaving his ass in the air and his face buried in the pillows as Rhett continues to fuck him with his tongue. From this angle he can’t see Felix’s cock, but he can see how tightly his balls are drawn up against his body, how close he is from this little act of intimacy.

Rhett presses his teeth to the rim of Felix’s hole, and the boy comes with a startled shout. 

And Rhett, as promised, doesn’t stop.

Gently, he licks around the rim of Felix’s hole, drinking in the soft moans and whimpers that Felix can’t seem to contain. They start to die off as Felix starts to slip under, whines turning into soft breaths little exhales, and even when Rhett slips a finger in next to his tongue all Felix does is sigh softly and lean back into the touch. 

They’re going to have to have a talk about ‘boss’. Rhett loves hearing it fall from the boy’s lips, but he’s never going to be able to hear it again without thinking about Felix squirming underneath him, fucking himself on his tongue. That’s going to be… distracting, to say the least. But that’s a conversation for later.

The captain only continues for another few moments, fucking Felix with his tongue and his finger in tandem to draw a few more soft sounds from him, but overstimulation isn’t the goal. With a lingering kiss pressed to the small of Felix’s back, Rhett settles back on his knees and gently helps Felix lay down on his side, away from the wet spot he left on the bed.

The boy’s gaze is still a little hazy, his smile a little soft, but it’s a smile all the same. That smile only grows when Rhett lays down next to him and draws the boy into his arms, tucking Felix’s slightly smaller frame against his own. “So good for me,” he murmurs, stroking a hand up and down Felix’s back. 

For a few moments, they lay there in silence, Felix’s head pillowed against Rhett’s chest, the captain’s hand carding gently through his hair. Felix clings to him, their legs tangled together and the boy’s arms cinched tight around his waist, and Rhett doubts Felix is even aware that he’s doing it (he doubts Felix has ever let himself cling to anyone, before, much less when he’s in the vulnerable headspace after a scene). It’s no hardship to let him. It’s this casual sort of intimacy that Rhett revels in, that he seeks out, even though prejudice against showing weakness makes it hard to find.

After a little while, Felix stirs, slowly releasing the death-grip he has on Rhett’s body. When he looks up, his expression is sleepy and content, his eyes half-lidded and the corners of his mouth curled ever so slightly upwards.

He’s beautiful.

“Hey,” Rhett says softly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair out of Felix’s face. “Back with me?”

The boy nods, blinking a few times before repeating the gesture a little more firmly. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a little rough. “Yeah, I’m… shit, boss.” He blinks owlishly, his gaze slowly traveling down from Rhett’s face and stopping at the sight of his cock tenting his pants. “You didn’t…”

“It’s all right,” Rhett replies. “You were perfect, baby. Getting to see you like that was more than enough for me.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, clearly disbelieving. 

With a sigh, Rhett offers him a wry smile. “We didn’t talk about that,” he says, “before. And asking during a scene is shitty and unfair.”

Felix blinks at him owlishly, and Rhett gets the uncomfortable feeling that Felix is all too familiar with things being added once he’s already under. It makes his stomach roil, makes him furious on the boy’s behalf, because the trust that submission requires should never be taken advantage of. “We’ll talk before every scene,” Rhett says, firmly. “And we’ll agree on what’s going to happen. I won’t ask you for anything else during, Felix, and I won’t let you try to push your own limits after you’re under. You’re trusting me to take care of you. I plan on acting worthy of that trust.”

There’s still disbelief in Felix’s eyes when Rhett looks down, but it’s tempered by the sleep that’s slowly starting to tug at the boy. He blinks a few times, and then turns his face into Rhett’s shoulder to hide a yawn. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

“‘s okay.” Rhett adjusts them a little, kicking the blanket up so he can drag it up over their bodies. “It’s late. Get some rest.”

Felix, Rhett thinks, is asleep before he even finishes talking.

* * *

Felix sleeps through the night, and Rhett does as well, his dreams pleasantly devoid of any memories of the cold or the agony of being woken from the cryosleep.

He wakes from his normal sleep when ADA starts to flood the room with light, mimicking a sunrise. Felix is still curled against his chest, and it takes some careful twisting and contorting to extricate himself from the bed without waking the boy. Rhett has responsibilities to attend to, but there’s no reason why Felix can't sleep a little more. Judging by the dark circles under the boy's eyes, he needs the rest. 

He instructs ADA to tell Felix where he is as soon as the younger man wakes, though. No need to let the boy think that Rhett up and left him. Trust is a delicate thing, and Rhett knows he hasn’t earned Felix’s, not fully, not yet. 

He spares one last glance at Felix’s relaxed, sleeping face, before ducking out of his room.

Breakfast consists of the sludge Nyoka makes that just barely basses as coffee, and a package of crackers hard enough to break a tooth on. It’s nowhere near satisfying, but he’s used to that at this point. It’s fuel, and it will keep him going through whatever the universe wants to throw at him - for the next few hours, at least. 

He’s tossing back the last of his coffee when Max walks into the kitchen. Rhett can’t help but notice the way the vicar’s eyes glance around the room, can’t help but see the way Max relaxed visibly when he assures himself that they’re alone. 

“Captain,” the vicar says. “I was hoping we could have a word.”

Rhett makes a noise that’s barely an affirmation, but he gestures at the chair across the table. Max hesitates long enough that Rhett almost reconsiders, but then the older man sighs and takes a seat. He sets his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers, and Rhett thinks _fuck the universe_ because hardtack and coffee isn’t anywhere near enough for him to be able to handle this shit.

“I believe I owe you an apology,” Max says slowly, and Rhett just blinks at him. “You offered me a place on your crew, _friendship_ , and I used you for my own devices.” He pauses, gritting his teeth together before continuing, despite the fact that saying the words must physically pain him. “I can’t imagine what you think of me, and you owe me nothing, but I… I’m begging your forgiveness.”

There’s a ‘no’ hovering on the tip of Rhett’s tongue, because Max’s apology lacked any mention of his behavior towards Felix, and there’s still a fair amount of protectiveness over the boy lingering under Rhett’s skin. But he bites back the hasty comment and the misplaced feelings, both. He doesn’t actually want to alienate Max. Anger and frustration aside, the apology seems genuine enough.

“Fine,” Rhett says shortly. “But if you ever lie to me again, about _anything_ …”

Max nods. “I understand, sir. Thank you.”

_Sir_. That’s a new one. Rhett’s never heard the vicar use that epithet before. He suspects it feels too demeaning, too submissive for the vicar to use regularly, or to use at all - unless he feels desperate. Rhett sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Was there something else you wanted?” he asks, and Max doesn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.

“Chaney mentioned a hermit on Scylla,” he begins. “I’m not asking you to make a special trip, but if I can get a translation…”

Rhett waves a hand. “Lifelong obsession, I know. We’ll go.” He pauses, making sure to meet the other man’s eyes. “But Law, Max, if this is some sort of fucking ruse I _will_ leave you on that miserable asteroid.”

Max nods eagerly, his expression rapidly changing from remorseful to satisfied. “Thank you,” he says again, like Rhett hadn’t just threatened to strand him on a space rock. “When, may I ask? No rush, but I do have certain things to prepare, and…”

“Tomorrow,” Rhett says impulsively. “That work for you, vic?”

Max’s eye twitches, but he doesn’t comment on the nickname. “Of course. Tomorrow is perfect.”

Max takes his leave, and Rhett lets himself slump forward, his forehead hitting the table. He has a sneaking suspicion that Max isn’t being entirely honest, at least with his emotional responses, but it’s too late to go back now. Rhett stands by his word. If Max wants to pull something, he can make peace with spending the rest of his miserable, rotten existence on Scylla.

Rhett hears footsteps enter the kitchen, but he doesn’t look up, more than a little proud that he can recognize his crew by their gaits alone. He remains bent over the table as Felix sits down next to him, only turning his head the third time the kid stops himself from reaching out towards Rhett.

“You can touch me,” the captain says. “Whatever level of intimacy you’re comfortable with, that’s fine.”

Felix finally finishes the motion, laying his hand on Rhett’s shoulder. “Bad choice,” he says, and Rhett wrinkles his brow, confused, before Felix continues. “I was gonna wake you up with the offer of a blowjob, but you chose sitting through Max’s shitty apology instead.”

Rhett smiles, and Felix returns the gesture. He’s clearly comfortable, if the teasing is anything to go by, and it settles Rhett more than it should to see the boy relaxed, at ease. He mutters, “Eavesdropper,” but his voice is too fond to make it sound like the reprimand it should be.

Felix shrugs. “Problem?”

“Nope.” Rhett shifts, reaching up to pat Felix’s hand before he sits up, dislodging it. “We have private rooms for a reason. He could’ve used ‘em.”

Felix makes a noise, something between a derisive snort and a hum of acknowledgement, and it shouldn’t be endearing, but Rhett is starting to doubt there’s much about the kid that isn’t. The way he bites his lip and flutters his eyelashes is a little more than endearing, something that makes Rhett feel like holing the two of them up in his quarters for the rest of the day, but then the kid speaks, and Rhett remembers where they are. “About Scylla,” Felix says. “I want to go.” He glances up at Rhett, hurrying to add, “I mean, if there’s a chance you’re gonna strand him there, boss, I gotta be there.”

Rhett hums noncommittally. He suspects there’s more to _why_ Felix wants to go, but that’s not information he needs to press for. Anyway, he already knows what his answer is going to be, because it’s something the kid wants and it’s something that Rhett can give, easily.

“No starting anything,” he warns, and Felix’s eyes light up. ”But if he starts something, you can finish it.”

“Noted,” Felix says, and it’s not _yes, sir_ , but it’s still acceptance and compliance, which is really more than Rhett expected of the kid when he first brought him on board.

Of course, there’s the distinct possibility that going to Sculla with Max is a bad idea, and if it is, going to Scylla with Max _and_ Felix is a genuinely terrible one.

* * *

Rhett’s day is already spoken for, and surprisingly enough, Felix doesn’t seem interested in traipsing around Byzantium clothes shopping for Parvati. Rhett doesn’t blame him, but each passing moment makes him want to see the kid more. Like an itch under his skin, the want is distracting, making him irritable to the point that Parvati calls him on it.

“Are you sure you’re not dropping?” she asks as they walk out of the tailor’s shop. The poor girl needs some clothes that aren’t covered in engine grease for her upcoming date with Junlei, and they’re going to cost a ridiculous number of bits, but Rhett doesn’t actually mind. Parvati knows he doesn’t mind, so she’s aware that there’s another reason for the way he snapped at the tailor.

Rhett bites back the urge to brush off her concern and makes himself think about it. Impatience, annoyance, frustration… alone, those wouldn’t make him think ‘drop’, but there’s also the lingering desire to tuck Felix’s head under his chin and hold him and keep him safe and…

“Fuck,” Rhett says, and stops in his tracks on the Byzantium sidewalk. He’s dropping. It hasn’t happened in ages, not since before he went on ice, so he figures he can be forgiven for not recognizing it. But now that Parvati’s put words to it, it’s obvious.

_I understand, sir. Thank you._

Rhett grits his teeth, and before he knows it, Parvati is at his side, linking their arms together. It’s not the kind of contact he would usually seek out, but his instincts recognize her as a submissive, and it helps. A little.

It’s not Max’s fault, despite the fact that it’s the memory of his words that makes Rhett’s world tip on its axis a little. He was already disgruntled about leaving Felix in bed, and then Max, normally one of the most dominant personalities on board, called him _sir_. It wasn’t submission, but it was _submissive_ , just enough for Rhett’s hindbrain to take note of and throw a fit over.

He lets Parvati lead him back to the _Unreliable_ , listens to her chatter about Junlei and a part she needs to track down for a repair. It gives him something to focus on other than the roiling wrongness in his chest. A drop isn’t deadly, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it certainly isn’t pleasant, either, and Parvati’s soft, even voice does a lot to ease the ache. 

They’re barely inside the door when Felix’s head pops around the corner, and Rhett sees the easy smile on his face morph instantly into concern. He hates himself a little for being the one to put that look on the kid’s face, but he can’t deny that seeing Felix makes the feeling of wrongness subside. It also helps when Felix steps close enough that Rhett can reach out for him, can sink into the embrace that the boy offers so readily.

“Domdrop,” Parvati says helpfully, and Rhett makes a mental note to thank her later. “Do you…” She hesitates, but Felix seems to pick up on the gist of what she wants to say.

“Thanks, Parv. I got it.”

Parvati ducks out of the airlock, and for a moment, there’s an uncomfortable, awkward silence. Rhett feels Felix tense against him, and his gut clenches suddenly - he hadn’t thought about Felix’s reaction. Had he ever seen a domdrop before? Given his experience, it wasn’t likely. What would he make of it? Would he…

Felix makes a soft sound, shifting closer to lay his head against Rhett’s collarbone. “Figured I was gonna fuck this up sooner or later,” he mumbles, so quietly that Rhett almost doesn’t hear him. And when he does hear him, he almost doesn’t understand. But as the words process, Rhett pulls back, frowning when he sees the dejection on Felix’s face.

“It’s not your fault,” he says slowly. “It… something Max said, that’s all. And it’s not his fault either,” Rhett adds quickly, quieting the storm beginning to brew behind Felix’s eyes. “Don’t go off half-cocked, now. I’m just not used to seeing him…” Rhett waves a hand helplessly, but Felix nods, understanding. 

“It was… weird,” the kid says. “Like, he didn’t even have to fuckin’ pretend that like, you know? It’s not like you expected him to get on his knees or anything, but he acted like he was expecting you to.” Felix pauses, frowning, and Rhett can see the gears turning in his mind, can see him thinking. Eventually, he wrinkles his nose, shaking his head. “He’s making trouble for himself,” Felix says, finally. “Lying and shit. Do you think he’s gonna stop?”

Rhett shrugs softly. “I hope so,” he says, and that’s the truth. Sighing, he leans forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Try to cut him a little slack tomorrow.”

Felix nods. And, if they linger like that, pressed together and leaning into each other, no one but ADA has to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for the delay on this chapter. Not long after I posted Ch. 3, I got sick and ended up in the ER because I couldn't breathe. (Was it COVID? We will never know, because I couldn't get a test). It freaked me out and I kind of stopped writing or doing anything that wasn't work or resting for a while. I'm back, though! And mostly healthy now.
> 
> Here, have some porn.


End file.
